Feathers And Pickpockets
by dance-tilyou'redead
Summary: VALENTINES Update—Brittany can use Cupid's arrows to help everyone find love but herself. Santana just likes lifting the wallets off unsuspecting tourists in Times Square for New Years Eve. No one can stop what happens when Santana finds that Brittany's wings are actually real.—Happy New Years—Language and sexy times warning.
1. New Years

Brittany snaps the pointed metal from the end of her arrow. "What would happen if I swallowed just the pointy bit?" It sits warm in her hand, the little vibration of power is always there, even broken.

Quinn looks back at her, looking for her meaning. She glances at the arrowhead. "It would hurt Britt."

Brittany pouts, staring down at the precious little spike that works for everyone except for the people that actually direct them. "That doesn't seem fair. Why doesn't it work?" she asks, sighing in frustration.

The point drops from her hand, tumbling the 6 stories from where they sit on the edge of a random building. The moment it hits the ground in a little puff of pink dust, the arrow in her other hand is back to being whole. She returns it to the narrow quiver on her back.

Quinn looks down at the crowd of people and Brittany follows her gaze into Times Square.

"You already love everyone." Quinn says thoughtfully.

It takes Brittany a moment to remember that she asked a question. "What if I want to be _in love_ with someone?"

"With who?" Quinn turns to her friend. "Someone down there? They can't even see you Britt. What would be the point? It'd just be a heartbreak."

Brittany's frown deepens. "Heartbreak's your specialty Quinn, not mine."

Quinn's posture instantly stiffens and she turns away to hide her hurt expression.

She moves to leave but Brittany grabs her arm. "No, wait. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that. Please forgive me."

Quinn sighs and rolls her eyes. "When you pout like that, how can I do anything else? Fine, why do you want to be 'in love'" she asks with those obnoxious air quotes.

Brittany shrugs. "I don't know, I think it would be nice is all." She thinks about what Quinn said. "Sometimes people can see me."

Quinn shakes her head. "Those aren't people."

"How do you mean?" Brittany frowns. She might only have been alive for nineteen and a bit years but she knows a person when she sees one.

"I mean, they're pretending to be people like we do sometimes. They look like people but they're Amores like us, or I don't know vampires or nymphs or some other kind of whatever that we haven't heard of. It's not important."

She waves a dismissive hand but Brittany is fascinated.

Quinn looks at her thoughtfully. "You know the arrows don't create love right? Check out wikipedia. Cupid is the god of affection and sex. Not love."

"Is wikipedia always right?" Brittany asks.

Quinn just shrugs and goes back to watching the crowd. The sun's only just gone down and there's still ages yet until the ball drops.

"Well I think I can be in love," Brittany states confidently. "I just have to find the right person." Her lips quirk to the side as she thinks about that. "Or nymph or vampire or whatever."

Quinn just shakes her head and rolls her eyes again. "Well if you find someone to bang tonight just be safe."

"That's not what I meant you know."

"Yeah, I know." Quinn ruffles Brittany's hair affectionately as she stands up and looks over the edge of the building. "Be careful anyway. Don't do anything… careless. And make sure you fill your quota before the ball drops or you're gonna end up on probation. And I don't wanna deal with that paperwork. Again."

Brittany looks up at her mentor with a confident grin. "Don't worry Quinn, I gots this." she waves a faux ghetto gesture to punctuate just how much she does have this.

Quinn laughs and Brittany is glad to see the Amore smile before she drops delicately from the edge of the building and into the crowd. There's always less heartbreak in the city when Quinn is smiling.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

A random guy bumps hard into Santana's shoulder. "Hey, watch it creep!"

"Sorry. God whatever… Bitch." He mumbles the last bit under his breath as he walks away which is what really bugs her.

She wants to turn around and go all Lima Heights on his ass even if he is a freakin giant. She gets another three paces before she whirls around, ready to pummel that asshole. But he's already been swallowed by the crowd. "Whatever," she mumbles. She got his wallet anyway.

She keeps walking as she splits open the cheap pleather. Inside is the fuggliest looking ID ever. "Well, Finn Hudson from…Bushwick Brooklyn, I'll bet you regret calling me a bitch now." Not that his mumbled insult had any impact on her picking his pocket. She just doesn't have to feel bad about it any more.

Opposite the ID is a crumpled photo of a girl that is way outside that manchild's league. Santana tugs the photo out of it's little pocket and unfolds it to show the rest of her. Even just in photo form the brunette is clearly hotter than Finn Hudson from Bushwick Brooklyn should be capable of snagging. She wonders how any girl reduces herself to dating someone who is so clearly beneath them.

Santana tosses the photo, pulls out the forty bucks cash and tosses the wallet in the nearest trashcan. There are dozens of the giant, wheeled bins dotted through the crowd. That doesn't stop the ground from being covered in trash but Santana guesses that it helps some councilman somewhere look good. One thing for sure is that there are going to be more than a few wallets in those bins by the end of the night cause this crowd is ripe for the picking.

Santana lives for these crowds. She can walk away with two thousand bucks long before anyone even notices they're lighter a wallet or money clip. At this time of year with everyone bundled up in their winter coats, who's gonna feel whether their wallet is there or not. Better than that, who's gonna suspect a hot bitch in three inch heals of being the slyest pickpocket in New York.

Santana brushes through a crowd of tourists all looking up. She gets three wallets and one passport.

Whoops.

Santana grabs the attention of a girl on the edge of the group by tapping her shoulder. The girl looks startled but Santana just gives her the friendly-local smile and hands the passport back. Losing your wallet is annoying but losing your passport can fuck up a holiday. She's not totally heartless.

The girl is beyond thankful and then so is her whole family bowing and chattering away in Japanese or something as an older woman hugs her passport to her chest like it's her first born child. Okay, maybe Santana is a little heartless cause she's still not giving those three wallets back.

She walks far enough away that they can't see her, though she can still see the little white and red flag their guide is carrying. She opens up the wallet and finds eight hundred bucks. God, tourists are stupid. Do they think they won't be able to find an ATM in New York? It's freakin New York.

She grabs the three hundred out of the other two wallets and then tosses both of them back into the crowd. She's pretty sure she hears the guy with the flag yelp in pain before the rest of the group start chattering about raining wallets and—oh wait these are our wallets… Yup, tourists. Gotta love em.

An airy laugh draws her attention away from the bobbing flag.

"That was really nice," A tall blonde girl about the same age as Santana is looking at her, smiling benignly.

She's dressed, rather incongruously as an angel and looking at Santana like she is the most precious thing. Santana automatically scowls. No one calls her nice and gets away with it. Not even hot blondes wearing seasonally inappropriate clothing and really cool wings. The girl's not even a worthwhile target since Santana can't see where she might be keeping her money. The red shorts and white T-shirt are too tight and not even Santana is good enough to put her hands into a girl's cleavage without her noticing. There could be a few cards or cash in the gold boots but really, who knows.

Santana turns on her heals and stalks off in the opposite direction. She's here to work not figure out why a cute girl is wandering around dressed as an Angel… Except not an angel. Santana thinks about it as she snags a money clip from a slick looking douche-bag in an Armani suit. The girl had on red booty shorts and—wait was she carrying a bow and arrow? And the strap across her chest might have been attached to an arrow quiver since she obviously wasn't carrying a satchel.

She was dressed as a hot cupid on New Years eve. It can't be any more than thirty degrees outside yet she seemed plenty warm from where Santana was standing. Maybe she's high on something or really, really drunk. She didn't _seem_ like she was on anything though.

Santana shakes her head as she tugs the thirty-five dollars out of the money clip and tosses it over her shoulder. The tinkle of metal hitting the pavement doesn't happen. Instead there is another airy laugh which makes Santana stop in her tracks. Oh god, if this girl is following her… she turns around and whaddya know. Crazy blonde chick is only a few yards away and holding the little metal clip in her outstretched hand. She sees Santana looking and must realise her mistake because she drops the clip. Santana laughs cause—as if that's gonna stop her seeing a perfectly solid person. Blondie is right there and clearly following her.

"Are you following me?" It's a stupid, obvious question but she has to say something.

Crazy Blonde looks behind herself dramatically then back to Santana with wide eyes. She points at her own chest. "You mean me?"

Santana laughs. "Well yeah."

"You mean you can actually see me?" She walks a little closer and Santana resists the urge to back away.

Okay, so apparently this girl really is crazy, not just crazy hot. "You are pretty much standing right in front of me," she points out.

Crazy Blonde tilts her head thoughtfully. "What if I turn around?" With that she turns her back to Santana as though the action would make her any less solid. As though she, the wings and the quiver sitting near her (lovely)rear end can be anything less than conspicuous.

Santana leans to one side so she can see Crazy Blonde's face. The girl has her eyes scrunched closed and she's muttering something under her breath. Santana leans back and is prepared to walk away when the white wings catch her attention. They really are beautiful. They kinda glow in all the different lights and they look really soft.

Santana lifts up one hand and runs her fingers down in the direction of the feathers. They feel like real feathers and the whole structure even seems to flex a little under her touch. The blonde's breath catches as she must feel the weight of Santana's hand against her shoulders—or wherever these things are attached. Santana's seen some pretty elaborate costumes but this one takes the cake. She tilts her head so she can see where the wings dip down to the space between the girls shoulder blades.

Holy shit.

This costume is incredible. The tshirt is cut away at the back, a knot holding it together low against her spine. This means the place where the wings are connected to her back is completely visible. Maybe Crazy Blonde walked off a movie set and is just wandering around messing with people. The harness isn't even visible at all so there must be some latex involved or something because the feathers of her wings just merge seamlessly with the skin of her back. It looks so real.

Santana shifts the hand still stroking white feathers to run a fingertip down the stretch of whatever is pretending to be skin between those wings. It looks so, so real. Santana runs her finger the whole way down the girl's spine looking for the edge to something but only feels warm, soft skin. She looks a little more closely and can see a scattering of fine, blonde hair exactly as there should be on her skin. It's all real. It doesn't make sense. She can't see any way that the wings can be attached.

For some reason the girl is just standing there. Santana leans forward and can see a blush on her cheeks and her eyes are still scrunched closed. She's not muttering under her breath anymore though. Instead, she's pulled the corner of her lower lip in between her teeth.

Santana knows she should walk away as quickly as possible. She's talking to a crazy person and running her hands down their bare back. It's nuts. She's a New Yorker now, not some Lima loser, country bumpkin.

The girl's breath is becoming shallow and Santana realises that her hand is still resting between her wings. Despite every alarm bell ringing loudly in her head Santana strokes her fingertips over the girl's skin again and this time there is a distinct shiver that runs over the girl's body. It's obvious now when the wings flex. Santana can see the muscles of the girls back work as the wings shift delicately on either side of her hand.

"Holy shit," Santana breaths.

She still needs one more test though before she'll even think about believing this. One little test to prove it.

Santana moves her hand quickly and tugs harshly at a random feather.

"Ow," the girl yelps out in surprise and whirls around so she's facing Santana again.

Santana jumps back, bumping into a random man that's rushing past. Suddenly the noise and chaos of Times Square on New Years Eve becomes something Santana actually registers. She does't know how long she was just standing, looking at—and touching—the blonde's back. She was so absorbed she completely forgot where she was and what she's been doing. She glances around the crowd, just to make sure no one's about to pounce on her for being a pickpocket. She's as confident as ever in her ability to sneak away unseen but that stunt with the Japanese tourists was a little bit stupid.

"What did you pull on me for? That's just mean." The girl is wearing an adorable pout.

"Wanky." Santana Lopez doesn't apologise to anyone but, "Sorry, Blondie I just wanted to—"

"Brittany."

"I'm sorry?" Did she just say sorry _again_?

"You already said that," the girl points out.

"No, I mean what did you say?"

"Oh," she grins and holds out her right hand. "Brittany. My name is Brittany."

"Pretty," Santana mutters. She doesn't know why she's still here, let alone exchanging pleasantries with a girl who apparently has real wings.

"Your name is Pretty?"

"Huh?"

"You said 'pretty' after I said my name so I thought—"

"Oh um, no." Santana rubs at the back of her neck with her left hand feeling her cheeks get hot. "No, I meant your name is um, well I guess it suits you."

"What about you?"

"I don't think it would suit me, no."

Brittany laughs like Santana just made the best joke and the sound, despite how it's directed actually warms her damn heart.

She can't help but smile. "What did I say?"

"I meant what's your name silly?"

"I don't know if I can give my name to someone who calls me 'nice' and then 'silly' in the same conversation. It sets a bad precedent." Santana winks then remembers that she doesn't flirt with crazy people with wings either.

"I kinda like your President. He says nice things about nearly everybody when he gets on TV."

Now it's Santana's turn to laugh at Brittany but she can't. All she can manage is a dopey grin because this girl is just too cute.

Santana catches the errant thought and schools her expression into something more serious. "Um, sure. But, er…" She takes the hand that hasn't wavered in its place between them this whole time. "I'm Santana."

She feels the warmth of Brittany's hand and is infinitely glad she does't wear gloves on days that she works.

"What are you?" Brittany asks, keeping the hold of Santana's hand as she steps further into her space and searches her face intently.

Santana lets out another laugh, feeling oddly light given the circumstances. "Seriously? You have wings and you're asking me what I am?"

"Well, yeah. I think it's pretty obvious what I am. You, on the other hand…" she looks Santana over in a way that leaves her feeling more than a little naked. "If you can see me then Quinn says you should be something special like us."

Santana ignores the question of who or what 'Quinn' is. "I'm nothing special."

"I think you are." The layers of meaning are clear in Brittany's eyes and it make Santana blush again.

"I'm just…" Santana thinks about lying but Brittany already saw her pulling money from a few wallets and tossing them away. It's pretty obvious. "I'm a sneak thief," she shrugs. "By night anyway and during the day I go to college like a normal person."

"What do you do there?"

Santana isn't sure Brittany means to ask what she's studying or what someone does at a college. She answers the simplest option. "I'm studying to be a civil planner."

"What do they do?"

"Boring things," She answers, honest again.

"But what else are you? Vampire? Faun? What are those tree, water spirit things?"

"Nymphs?"

"Yeah, that. Wait, does that mean you're a—"

Santana cuts her off, "No! No, i'm not anything I swear. Well, I'm sneaky but that's not exactly magical is it?"

Brittany smiles. "So you're just…Santana?"

"I guess so?"

Brittany doesn't have a reply to that but her thumb is moving soothingly over the back of Santana's hand so she doesn't really mind.

Santana swallows nervously. "So, um. The wings?"

Brittany glances over her shoulder and flexes them as if to make sure they're still there. "What about them?" she asks, shifting them again in a way Santana can't help but watch.

"Why are they there? It's not exactly normal. Are you like, a human with wings or a thing that flies."

Brittany gives a half shrug. "I don't think I'm human."

"You're not sure?"

"Not really. I need the wings for my work." She offers with a smile.

"And what is it that you do? Courier? Plumber? Photographer maybe…" She trails off laughing as Brittany's expression becomes more and more incredulous.

Brittany laughs right along with her and even leans into Santana's shoulder as their giggles get stronger and make them both breathless.

"No, no I'm an Amore," she says, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

Santana mirrors the action, still panting a little through fading giggles. "I don't know what that is."

"Really?" Brittany looks at Santana like she's sure she's being messed with.

"I swear, I have no idea."

"Okay," Brittany starts, still looking a little suspicious. "You know Cupid?"

"Not personally," Santana jokes with as straight a face as she can manage.

"Well obviously. Even I've only met him the once."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I know right? He was pretty nice but I guess he'd have to be right since he's my boss?"

"Bosses aren't usually nice. That's why I freelance." Santana smirks. Job descriptions are always fun. Government forms are the best.

"Oh." Brittany looks thoughtful for a moment.

"Um, okay then. Assuming I can believe any of…this. Isn't it a bit early in the year for you to be out? Valentine's day is in February. Why are you here tonight?"

"Love doesn't just happen one day a year San."

Santana likes how Brittany shortens her name like that.

"Okay Britt," she tries out the name and decides she likes it. Brittany likes it too if the dazzling smile is anything to go by. "So what do you do for Cupid then?"

"Well I…" Brittany looks around them as if she's looking for the right explanation. "Is it alright if I just show you?"

"I guess…"

"Great. But um…"

"What?"

"You'll have to let go of my hand." Brittany bites her lip as she looks down at their clasped hands.

"Oh, um sure."

Santana misses the warmth as soon as she lets go.

Brittany nudges Santana's shoulder with her own. "You'll see. Now, who do you think would look cute together?"

She looks out into the crowd surrounding them and Santana follows her gaze.

"That guy," Santana says pointing toward a big, mad looking man in a fugly blue down jacket. "Aaaand that one over there." She points toward another woman in a similar coat.

"Good choice. I like it," Brittany says with a happy nod.

She grabs an arrow out of the white case at her back and notches it against her bow. "You ready?" she asks.

Santana nods and moves to stand right behind Brittany so she can see what she's seeing. Brittany raises the bow, brings the man quickly in her sights then releases the arrow. It hits the man square in his oversized chest, everything taking less than two seconds. Santana is sure she would have missed it if she'd blinked.

She puts her hand on Brittany's hip. "What about her?" she asks, nodding to the woman.

Brittany looks over her shoulder with a smile. "You'll see."

The man goes over to the woman and when he holds out his hand Santana sees a plume of pinkish smoke around it. The smoke reaches out to the woman and when she accepts his hand it entwines around hers as well.

It's really kind of… sweet.

Brittany flexes the wing closest to Santana and the longer feathers brush over her wrist. Santana feels her whole body warm to the touch as Brittany begins to turn in her arms.

"Britt, there you are. I've been looking for you. Kitty just told me—oh no." Quinn is looking breathless as she lands lightly next to them.

"Quinn, how's your night going?" Brittany is mostly being polite because she knows she'll be asking Quinn to leave.

Santana is the first human that she's ever actually spoken to and Santana hasn't run away. Better than that, every time Brittany looks into Santana's warm, chocolate eyes she feels this wonderful buzz spread through her chest and under her skin. She thinks that Santana feels it too, although she stepped away as soon as Quinn appeared. Also, for Brittany, having a mentor around is pretty much guaranteed to kill almost any happy buzz.

Quinn doesn't answer her question, instead she looks at Santana. "Who's your er, friend?" she asks.

Brittany looks between them as Quinn looks disapproving and Santana looks annoyed.

"I'm Santana, who the hell are you?" Santana holds out her hand even though her words were a little less than nice.

"Quinn. Fabray." Quinn hesitantly takes Santana's hand. "Dammit!" she yelps, taking back her hand, turning it over to show the red of a light burn on her palm. "You _are_ the Satyr. I knew it. Come on Britt, we gotta go."

"Wait why? What's a Satyr? Where are we going?" Brittany doesn't want to leave. Santana is wonderful. If she leaves now she won't get the chance to learn everything about her.

Santana steps between them. "I've got the same three questions. And you better start answering them or I'll go all Lima Heights."

Quinn huffs as she takes a step back. "She's a—" she starts to address Brittany but at Santana's dark glare she addresses them both instead. "You're a Satyr—or I guess a satyress. But you have to know that?"

Brittany sees Santana give her a look.

"She's human, Q" Brittany tells her.

Quinn shakes her head, "I was sent in with a tell." She offers up her red hand. "This tells otherwise."

"But what does that mean? What's a...Sateen?"

"Satyr," Quinn corrects. "Satyrs are kinda like fauns." She looks at Santana's high heeled boots and follows up the line past her stockinged thighs and tight, short dress. "I guess it could be back a few generations. "Are there any horns in under that hair?"

"Oh, she didn't. That's it Fabray." Santana starts to take off her jacket, clearly offended by the idea.

Quinn looks over Santana's shoulder to Brittany. "Satyrs are companions to Bacchus," she explains, her tone didactic as usual. "They're tricksters and malingerers. That would explain the impulse control issues—"

"Oh, I'll give you impulse control." Santana throws her jacket to the ground.

Before she can do anything drastic Brittany grabs her around the waist, almost lifting her from the ground. Quinn looks a little confused by the display as Santana only fights against Brittany's arms for a few seconds before relaxing completely. Brittany mumbles some calming nonsense—she's not sure what—into Santana's ear and finds the smaller girls hand with her own. Santana relaxes more into the touch and Brittany keeps her back tight against her front. Her hand wanders up and down the inside of Santana's wrist.

Quinn looks away from them and into the crowd. "There's too many of _us_ in amongst all of _them_," she waves an open palm between the three of them and then to the rest of the crowd. "The Siren might be here too." Her words are meant to sound like a warning but Brittany knows better. She hears that little hint of longing that's always there when Quinn talks about _her_.

"Oh, you mean that Rachel girl. The one you've been stalking?"

"Not stalking. Observing. There's a difference."

"Sure there is. One's illegal." It's Santana's voice that comes out a little shaky. Brittany is still holding her so she can feel the tenseness in Santana's back.

Brittany unwraps her arms from Santana who shivers a little in the cold night air. She picks up Santana's jacket.

Santana gives her the sweetest little smile as she hands it over. "Thanks Britt."

Brittany has to look away. "What does it matter how many there are of us if humans can't see us?"

"Say what?" Santana looks freaked out as she whirls on the spot looking at the crowd. "No one else can see you?"

Quinn and Brittany look at each other before Quinn explains. "Yeah, it's how it works. If you were human you wouldn't be able to see us."

Santana groans like she's in pain. "So it looks like I'm talking to myself?"

"Yes. If other people really can see y—"

"Of course other people can see me. And I look like a fucking crazy person!" She yells, throwing her hands in the air.

As if to prove her point a guy in a grey stetson gives her a distinctly disapproving look and pulls his wife away from them. Santana groans again. Brittany supposes she must look a little funny. Especially with the way they've been looking at one another. Brittany takes the infuriated girl's hand because Santana is a little bit beautiful when she's angry. Santana softens into her again almost immediately.

Quinn sighs. "Then let's get out of here shall we?" She's talking directly to Brittany with the next question. "Have you met your quota yet or were you distracted by the Satyr?"

"Stop calling me that. I'm just a person."

"Sure you are."

Santana's scowl deepens again so Brittany squeezes her hand before giving Quinn a determined glare. "Look Quinn, I'll take care of it. Please just go?"

"Fine," Quinn huffs. "Just be careful okay."

"I always am."

"Yeah, right." Quinn laughs with a teasing smile.

"Go find your Siren." Brittany teases her friend right back. "Maybe she'll drop that giant of hers for you tonight."

"Yeah, maybe." Quinn's smile is a little sad as she looks down to where Brittany's hand is connected to Santana's.

Santana stiffens when she steps into her space. Quinn stares into her eyes, searching for who knows what. Santana stares right back and eventually Quinn seems to have found what she's looking for.

Quinn's eyes shift between them before settling back on Santana. "You hurt her, I will come after you. Understand?"

Brittany expects Santana to brush it off or make a joke of Quinn's dramatics. She doesn't expect Santana to just nod seriously. "I understand. I won't hurt her."

Brittany could melt into a puddle on the ground. It's hardly an I love you but it feels incredibly important.

Quinn seems satisfied enough with the answer as she steps away and stretches her wings to leave. "I'm holding you to that Satyr."

Before Santana can voice any further protest to the label, Quinn is gone, barely creating a breeze with her take off. Brittany envies her grace sometimes.

When she looks back to Santana, she's already looking at her. "Maybe we should, um. Get outa here?" Santana suggests, a quirk in her smile and a small blush visible in her cheeks.

"Yes." Brittany states with a confidence she rarely ever feels. "I think that would be good. Really, really good."

Santana grins at that. "But what about your quota thing?"

"Oh yeah. Okay, just stand really still for a sec, kay? I don't wanna accidentally hit you and have you falling in love with somebody else." Brittany blushes as she realises what she just suggested.

Santana bites her lip to smother her own smile. "I don't think those arrows would work on me right now anyway."

"Cause you're magic like me?"

Santana's cheeks get even darker and Brittany is sure her heart does a summersault in her chest when Santana shakes her head.

Brittany isn't sure where her feet are right now but she bends her knees anyway to push up into a jump. Her feet don't make it back to the ground as her wings stretch out then flex and beat to take her higher.

Santana watches from the ground as Brittany withdraws an arrow from her quiver and lets it loose into the crowd. Before Santana can even look for who it might have hit, she lets another arrow loose. Brittany moves almost quicker than Santana can see, loosing one arrow after another. Her quiver never empties as every time an arrow finds it's mark there seems to be a new one replacing it.

Brittany's expression is calculating as she watches the crowd for short stretches, finding several targets at once and then hitting them all in quick succession. She must let a hundred arrows loose into the crowd before she lowers her bow. There's a small satisfied smile on her face when she returns to the ground and stops in front of Santana.

"Okay, we can go now," she says breathlessly, a happy smile on her face.

Santana just shakes her head in awe as Brittany's wing curl into her back again. "That was just…"

Brittany can't seem to keep the smirk off her face as she asks. "Just what?"

"So hot." Santana says matter of factly. "Like, really hot."

Brittany grins at her in response. "Weren't we going somewh—"

"Yep, lets go." Santana grabs her hand and drags her through the sea of people to the closest gate out of the celebrating crowd.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

Santana's apartment isn't that far from Times Square and Brittany, who has never been that concerned with distance before finds herself very glad of that. Santana's hand is just so warm in her own and whether Santana is human or not really doesn't matter right now.

Santana lives on the eighth floor which means for Santana's sake taking either stairs or getting in the elevator. Brittany has never been in an elevator before and that funny lurch in her stomach catches her unawares. She giggles in delight and clutches at Santana's arm.

"Does its always feel like that?"

Santana nods looking at Brittany like she thinks the startled girl is the best thing ever. It makes Brittany's heart thud even harder than the elevator starting did.

"Santana?" she starts uncertain. They're facing each other and having Santana so close to her, in such an enclosed space is making Brittany feel something wonderful and huge. "Can I ask you something?"

Santana nods. "Anything."

"Do you think—" she can't just say that can she? No. "Is your heart beating really fast too?"

Santana nods again and draws Brittany's hand up to press against her chest and over her heart. Brittany can feel it; she can feel Santana's heart thundering against her ribcage.

It takes Brittany's breath away. She can barely get out the next question. "Do you… Are you all tingly all over too?"

Santana nods.

"Do you think… Do you want to kiss me like I want to kiss you?"

Santana doesn't answer with words, just pulls Brittany forward and crashes their lips together.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

By the time the elevator dings to signal her floor Santana is very glad that it's a half hour until countdown and everyone is out for the fireworks because she is ready to just be done with it and rip Brittany's clothes off.

They match so perfectly. Santana can't think of a single person she's ever had this kind of chemistry with before. She doesn't know if it's as that delightfully bitchy Quinn-woman said and they're both magical or some shit. She does't care. All she cares about are Brittany's lips against her and Brittany's hot skin under her searching hands.

The fact that Brittany's shirt is completely open at the back is doing nothing to slow her desire. Every time her hands drift up to stroke the skin around Brittany's wings the girl shivers hard against her. Every time she shivers Santana's arousal sky rockets. Brittany's hands are exploring her just as thoroughly as they both work each other up to the edge.

Somehow Santana finds her door even in the midst of Brittany pushing her Jacket off her shoulders. After a few more minutes pressed against the door she forces herself to disconnect from Brittany and find her keys. They haven't come all this way to have sex against a door. Brittany pouts which nearly breaks Santana's determination but she turns her back on her with only a slightly wavering resolve. Brittany presses her hips into Santana's ass as she opens the door and Santana has to wonder how Brittany learned to press all of her buttons so quickly.

Inside the apartment, Santana has to be the one to step away again. They're both breathing heavily and things are heading down a certain road. They need to talk about this for a second because really, what do they know about each other? Not a hell of a lot. Brittany has wings, Santana might happen to be related to some kind of mythological goat creature. It's all a little much.

Santana kicks off her shoes and walks into her kitchen. Brittany does the same before following her. Santana deliberately puts the small dining table between them and Brittany looks like she's ready to crawl over it to get to her.

"Would you like some water Britt?"

Brittany looks startled by the innocuous question. "To do what?"

"To drink," Santana says, confused.

"Oh," Brittany leans back a little. "Okay, sure."

Santana breaths a sigh of relief, grabs two glasses down from the shelf and fills them both with water. Before she can turn around Brittany is pressed to her back again.

"Britt, I…"

"Santana?"

"Shit," Santana gasps as Brittany's fingers move smoothly up over the fabric of her skirt and under her top to caress against the skin of her stomach.

"Britt, I'd really like to turn around and slam you into that wall but—" Brittany's hands creep further up, halting Santana's words again. "But I'm afraid of hurting your wings—"

"You won't," Brittany murmurs as she drags her lips up Santana's neck.

"But I don't know that. I don't know anything except that I—" Santana cuts herself as she realises what three small but massively important words were about to fall past her lips. Where had that come from? She barely knows this girl. They only just met. She can't love her already.

Brittany must hear the almost-words as well because she takes a step back. Santana takes a gulp of water before returning the glass to the counter and turning around. Brittany is standing a few paces away and frowning in concentration. Before Santana can ask what she's doing Brittany's wings shiver and then start shrinking. Santana walks around Brittany until she can see the girl's back; she can see the last of the feathers retracting into the skin by her shoulder blades, first shrinking then absorbing straight into the skin.

"Wow," Santana breathes. "Did that hurt?"

Brittany looks over her shoulder to where the wings used to be. "Pinches a little." She says, turning to take a hold of Santana's hips with both hands. "Now about this slamming me against the wall scenario…"

"Britt," Santana whines.

"I'm kidding," Brittany laughs. "Well kinda."

Santana's eyes practically smoulder and Brittany really would like nothing more than to experience what Santana describes. There's other really important things though and Brittany has to concentrate.

She kisses Santana again just because she's so close and Santana smells so good. "I know we only just met and this is a little crazy—"

"So call me maybe?" Santana suggests.

Brittany just tilts her head, confused.

"I'm sorry, really," Santana laughs. "Keep going. You're doing great."

Brittany rolls her eyes because Santana totally just ruined the serious vibe. "Not fair San. I was gonna say that you're incredibly special to me and I think I love you but I've never been in love before and Quinn said the arrow didn't work so I thought that meant I couldn't even be in love until I met you but I guess, if you don't want to hear it then—"

"I love you."

"—I'll just let my wings back out and… What?"

Santana holds her hands against Brittany's cheeks and that now-familiar warmth spreads through her as Santana looks into her eyes. "I love you too. I don't know everything about you but I plan to. If you want to then I would very much like to know what it's like to date a sexy cupid girl."

Brittany grins as her heart expands in her chest. "An Amore," she corrects automatically.

"Whatever," Santana pulls her in and kisses her soundly, directing Brittany back into the nearest wall just like she said she would.

Their hands start to wander again as their bodies come back together. Santana's fingertips tickling over the skin where her wings used to be sends that incredible pulse of electricity through her and she gasps into Santana's mouth. There's only one more thing that she _needs_ Santana to know and understand.

She breaks form Santana's lips. "I need you to know that I didn't—and I never would—I didn't use any arrows on you. There's no trick." Brittany squeezes her eyes shut hoping Santana will just understand and believe her.

She opens her eyes to see Santana smile as she pushes the frown away from between Brittany's eyebrows. "I never thought you did."

Brittany breaths a sigh of relief that abruptly turns into a moan as Santana's thigh presses in between her legs. It feels a lot like what happens when Santana runs her fingertips between Brittany's shoulders but way more. Brittany wants to know what will happen if she does that to Santana.

Apparently great things happen when she does that to Santana.

The air practically crackles around them when they reach the bedroom. Santana tugs at the knot in Brittany's shirt as Brittany finds the zip at the back of her skirt. Santana lets her shirt be pulled over her head a moment before she discovers Brittany wears some particularly tiny underwear with little love hearts on them and no bra. At all.

Santana tears her tights away from her legs before they collapse on the bed in their underwear; the heat of their skin as they press together is becoming intense. Santana still doesn't know if it's magic and she still doesn't care. This girl is incredible and she aims to discover every inch of heated skin before the night is over.

Within a few more minutes Santana discovers just how delightfully sensitive Brittany is between her shoulder blades without the wings and uses it to her advantage. Brittany discovers that Santana has boobs.

Santana's sure she would find Brittany's enthusiasm hilarious if the feeling of Brittany's hot hands discovering her flesh wasn't so overwhelming. She's not even sure _when_ she lost her bra because Brittany's lips were just so distracting. Now Brittany's eyes are settled firmly on her chest.

"You know," Santana pants as Brittany tweaks a nipple with a curious expression. "They've been here this whole time."

Brittany gulps as she looks up into Santana's face. "Yeah, but I didn't know, I didn't expect—I…"

Santana finally takes pity on the angel in her bed and kisses her into silence.

Brittany has never felt anything as wonderful as Santana's skin. She tastes wonderful, she feels wonderful and the way she moves is just… beyond words. Removing Santana's bra was the best decision of her life and the newly exposed skin holds her interest more than she would have thought possible. The fact that Santana reacts the way she does, the way her body moves when Brittany runs her thumb over certain spots just makes it even better.

Knowing how wonderful Santana's neck tastes, Brittany continues to explore with her tongue. Every inch of Santana is delectable. Especially her breasts. Brittany presses her body into Santana's to keep her still as she licks, nips and kisses across the supple and apparently sensitive skin.

"Britt," Santana gasps out her name as one of her hands pushes into her hair and the other grips at her back to rub between her shoulder blades.

The dual sensations is incredible and overwhelming as pulses of electricity surge to and from the apex of her thighs.

"Fuck Santana," She says, lips moving against Santana's breasts. "You have to stop—ungh—with the… shoulders… too much."

Santana lifts her hand from between Brittany's shoulders and she's torn between being relieved and wishing she'd not said anything. Santana erases all further thought by tugging at her hair until Brittany finally realises what she wants and crawls back up her body.

Santana pushes at her angel's shoulders until she's on her back and Santana can have her own way with that incredible body. Or she would be if Brittany's lips weren't attached to hers and Brittany's hands weren't running up and down her back with intermittent squeezes to her ass.

At one particularly firm grab, Santana's hips thrust down into Brittany's. They both groan at the pressure and Santana knows that neither of them can take much more teasing.

Santana lets one hand drift down Brittany's side while the other stays in Brittany's hair, keeping her locked in their kiss. Santana nips at Brittany's lip then pushes her tongue over it into Brittany's mouth. At the same time she lifts her hips enough to push at the waist band of Brittany's underwear. It's a little awkward going but then Brittany must get the hint; she lifts her own hips and pushes at the other side of the waistband until the love-heart spotted fabric is pushed down and past her knees.

They laugh together as the underwear gets tangled around Brittany's ankles and they both have to kick until the fabric is finally gone. Santana looks down long enough to kick the offending piece of clothing off the bed altogether. When she looks up again Brittany is just staring at her with the most adoring expression.

Brittany swallows before trying to say something, "I l—"

"I love you," Santana interrupts with a mischievous grin.

Brittany bites at her lip before trying again. "I lo—"

Santana just interrupts again. "I love you."

"Santana," Brittany whines, pulling at Santana's shoulders so she can bury her head against her neck.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry Britt Britt. I won't interrupt this time," Santana laughs.

Brittany looks like she's going to cry.

"What? I'm sorry, don't you like—"

"No I like that nickname. A lot. And I…" she hesitates to make sure Santana isn't going to interrupt again.

Santana pulls her lips into her mouth to indicate as much.

"I love you Santana."

Santana feels her heart flutter again; even while it's beating so hard with the way that Brittany is touching her, that confident declaration makes her feel even more…of everything.

Santana kisses her again and as Brittany's hips start that rhythmic roll against her Santana lets her hand drift down Brittany's side and between their bodies. She pushes into soft, wet heat, exploring but ultimately letting the natural shift of Brittany's hips guide her. At a particularly aggressive jerk Santana lets her hand drift lower. The squirming girl gasps audibly and pulls her lover closer as she feels Santana push into her.

"Britt? Are you okay," Santana questions, needing to be sure.

Brittany just nods, her eyes scrunched closed and her breathing heavy. "Keep going."

Santana kisses Brittany's lips then her cheek and her neck. She trails her lips up and down Brittany's neck waiting for her to finally relax before really moving again. She moves slow, taking even more care until Brittany is rolling against her in the same way she was before. Santana adjusts her arm so she can bump her hand against that sensitive spot and when Brittany's back arches tightly, she manoeuvres her other hand under her to stroke the skin between Brittany's shoulder blades.

Brittany falls apart moments later and Santana keep stroking her skin until she finally, gradually relaxes. Brittany shivers one more time as Santana withdraws her hand from between her legs.

"Fireworks," Brittany laughs, a blissful smile brightening her whole expression.

Santana chuckles along with her as she repositions herself on the bed, only half lying against Brittany's side. "That good huh?"

Brittany bites her lip, still breathing heavy. "That too but um, well listen."

Santana emerges from her Brittany haze to listen for anything aside from Brittany's pants or Brittany's heartbeat. She realises that, yes there are in fact fireworks going off nearby, complete with a shimmer or colours reflecting against the wall opposite the window.

She bury's her face in Brittany's shoulder as she laughs at herself for saying something so ridiculously cheesy. "Oh, god Brittany."

"You'll get to say that a few more times tonight," Brittany says with a smirk as she kisses Santana's shoulder.

Santana laughs again because somehow her sweet girl just surpassed her own cheesiness. She shakes her head. "Happy New Year Brittany."

Brittany nudges her nose against Santana's. "Happy New Year San."

Brittany stares at the girl she loves, wondering how she could be so lucky. She then nudges Santana until she's on her back and Brittany can take her favourite place between Santana's thighs. She takes both of Santana's hands and pushes them into the pillows above her head.

"Now, keep still San. I wanna try something."

Santana sees fireworks again and this time it's definitely all Brittany.

* * *

AN: Happy New Years everyone! I'll probably end up posting another chapter for Valentines Day so if you wanna know when that happens then y'all know what to do.


	2. Valentines

AN: Epic shout out to naynay1963 for motivations, good ideas and random info checks.

For my fine Best Trick readers: The new chapter is with my Beta so hopefully updating soon.

* * *

_February 1st_

Santana sits across from her mother folding napkins absently. The logo of her family's cafe is more shape than words after so many hours spent working here; before school, during summer breaks this was her place to think and fold napkins. She doesn't make a habit of it anymore—moving across several states usually prohibits it—and she certainly isn't getting paid to do it now but she needs to have words with her mother. Face to face words.

Santana watches the nervous waitress bring Maribel a fresh coffee. The waitress disappears quickly but Maribel doesn't even seem to notice as she takes a tentative sip, her lips quirking to one side at the taste. Santana smirks, knowing that the new barista isn't going to last long. She almost feels sorry for the guy. Maybe she could get Brittany to come and work her magic for him. Find someone to help take his mind off losing his job.

The fringe benefit of getting to see her girlfriend again isn't lost on Santana.

Although. Girlfriend might be the wrong word. Friend obviously isn't enough. Lover feels tacky and wrong for them although it does contain the word love at least. Santana thinks of how she felt when Brittany said she loved her. They'd known each other for no time at all but it just felt so damn right. What doesn't feel right in the least is the fact that she's barely seen Brittany since that first night. She'd be worried but something happened that night which connected them. Santana can _feel_ Brittany's love and it feels…

Santana's mother is talking to her.

"Sorry, what?" Santana resumes her folding so she has an excuse to look down and hide her blush.

"I asked why you are here," Maribel repeats. "But I think I already have an idea." Her Mother's knowing smirk is just as irksome now as it was for her as a teenager.

Santana hums. "Oh really?"

Maribel nods solemnly, taking another sip of her unsatisfactory coffee. "Yes, I've seen this many times before." She points to the pile of napkins already folded and stacked neatly to one side. "As for example, when you were ten and had your first crush on that lovely little girl in your class; or when you were sixteen and finally asked that same girl to be your girlfriend and were so frightened of telling me."

Santana sighs. She'd been terrified of coming out to her mother. Tina's parents had known and supported them both but Maribel had been the wild card. Santana just didn't know how she would ever react to things. Santana was also thoroughly convinced after sixteen years of corroborating evidence that her mother lived to mess with her.

She looks up at Maribel now, seeing the glint of gold jewellery at her wrists and neck. Maribel had always said her jewellery was passed down from her grandmother. Santana never thought she'd be wondering if that grandmother had horns hidden away in her hair.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

Brittany loves clubs. The music charges through her in the best, dark and dirty way. And not just her. With the right music and the right atmosphere people can lose themselves. That's something everyone needs ever now and then. With Brittany winding, dancing and grinding her way through the crowd and working her magic it just gets better.

She's at one of her favourite clubs. It's dark, underground and always completely sexy. Just like anything remotely sexy(or beautiful or exciting or existing) this place reminds her of Santana. She hasn't seen her in nearly a too long because of work and it's hard. She misses her all the time.

The last time she saw her Santana didn't even know it. It wasn't spying per se. More like observing. God, she sounds like Quinn with her siren obsession. Speak of the devil(with shiny, shiny wings) Quinn is making her way through the crowd towards where Brittany is dancing.

"Come on Britt, we're done in here," Quinn crosses the dance floor, effortlessly willing people to move from her path.

Brittany just shakes her head and keeps dancing. She raises her arms above her head, dragging the tip of her arrow across the exposed skin of the nearest girl's back as she does. Brittany feels that wonderful warmth seeing that girl fall into the arms of the person she's dancing with.

She can feel Santana thinking about her, maybe even talking about her and it's just as wonderful. Better—intoxicating even. Brittany compares it to sitting by a warm fire on a cold night. Like the warmth of flames kind of crossed with static electricity. Like when you can feel the charge in a helium balloon and it makes your hair stick up. She means to ask Santana if she feels the same thing when Brittany thinks of her. Whenever she sees her.

Soon, Brittany thinks.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

"So what is it then?" Maribel leans back in her chair. "Why are you really back in Lima? I know it's not just to see me."

Santana shrugs, stalling for time. "There's no good breadstix in New York?"

Santana's mother just looks at her. No. Stares at her, sipping her coffee and waiting for Santana to crack.

"Okay, fine. Stop looking at me like that." She folds the last napkin and puts it to one side. "I met someone."

Maribel's eyes light up as she laughs and claps her hands together once. "Oh, excellent. I love being right. Who is she? Is she here in Lima with you?" She looks around as if this 'girl' she has in her mind might pop out from behind the plastic ferns or something.

"She's not here," Santana finally admits. "In fact I don't know where she is. I never do."

Maribel is immediately subdued. "Oh. So she's…" she trails off in obvious confusion.

Santana sighs. Brittany could be anywhere. When she'd explained that she'd be busy—"People need other people to keep warm at this time of year San"—Santana hadn't imagined quite so long a time apart. And now her mother is waiting for an explanation and Santana doesn't even know where to begin. How does she explain any of this? What if Maribel isn't even the one of her parents with the magic? Santana shakes her head because, no. Everything that Quinn said, everything that she found in her research into satyrs describes Maribel to a T. It has to be her.

"What do you know about magic?" Santana looks up from her hands to see that Maribel is staring at her, coffee half raised to her mouth which has fallen open. "Mamá?"

Maribel seems to recover herself as her mouth snaps closed and she returns her coffee to the table top. "I don't know what you mean Santanita."

Oh, so that's how she wants to play it. Santana rethinks her approach quickly. "Her name's Brittany." Santana's annoyance with her mother is immediately diminished, smothered by the warm glow she feels whenever she thinks of Brittany. "She's beautiful and so smart and really great at her job." Santana knows she's gushing. She can't help it. "She's got beautiful blue eyes and she loves everyone. And me." Santana looks up to see Maribel wearing a warm smile. "I love her too. I mean I hadn't even imagined really falling in love with anyone but..." She trails off. Partly because she doesn't know how to finish that sentence but also because Maribel is looking at her strangely. "What?"

Santana's mother shakes her head a little. "I guess I didn't imagine... What about that other girl Dana or—"

"Diana," Santana finishes for her.

"Yes that one," Maribel agrees. Didn't you only break up a few months ago? How long have you know this Brittany girl for?"

"Since New Years."

Santana almost wears her mother's coffee as Maribel chokes into her cup. "A month?" She splutters. "You're in love with her after a month?"

"I was in love with her after an hour. What does it even matter how long it's been. I'm saying I'm in love with her not proposing." As Santana says it though she can't help but imagine Brittany in a beautiful white dress. She wonders if Brittany would wear a suit if _she_ wore the white dress. They could always both of them wear dresses. That would be nice too.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

Brittany feels such a full and consuming surge of love that she just needs to grab and kiss someone. She looks around as though Santana will just appear. Of course, that's impossible. Quinn is right there though. And totally cute and all. Brittany puts her hands on either side of Quinn's face.

"Hold still," she says then presses her lips firmly against Quinn's.

Quinn's arms flail out at her sides for just a second until she finally relaxes into the kiss and tilts her head just a little. Brittany smiles as she does, even sneaking her tongue out to taste her lips. Brittany sinks into kissing her mentor as she just _feels_ every heartbeat that fills with Santana's love for her.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

Maribel just stares at Santana.

"What?" Santana whines. "Mamá what is wrong with you? God, I could get better conversation out of a—"

"What is she?"

Santana blinks, not sure if she really heard what she thinks she heard. "What is...?"

"Don't play with me Santana. You can't have fallen this fast for a human I'm sure of it. So what is she?"

"Wait does this mean you'll admit it?"

"Admit it?"

"That you're full of shit and you handed down the freak gene to me in your placenta or whatever."

"Language Santana," Maribel starts in a warning voice.

Santana rolls her eyes. "The truth please."

"Fine. But just tell me what this girl is first."

Santana crosses her arms over her chest in a show of non-cooperation. "I don't know. I think I'm suffering from some memory loss on this one. Much like you did for the past nineteen years of my life."

Maribel sighs. "Honestly Santana, you act like you would have believed me if I'd told you."

Santana just rolls her eyes even more spectacularly.

Maribel sighs through her own eye roll. "Fine. You're magic. Are you happy?"

"No. Because you have tormented me for years. Hell I've tormented everyone _my_ whole life. I have to be brutally honest with people and tell them when they suck. All the time. It's like a disease. Now I know the reasons why but that's not cause my mother told me. No. I had to find out from a freakin Cupid girl with a ten foot wingspan. Wingspan Mamá!" She keeps getting louder but catches herself on the last word, looking around self consciously.

All of the staff are looking pointedly busy which means they're all listening very closely.

Maribel is looking thoughtful. "Cupid girl?" Her eyes snap back to Santana. "You mean... Oh no."

Santana panics for a moment as her mother's tone turns to one very much resembling dismay. The panic evaporates, very quickly replaced by annoyance when the devil woman who calls herself Santana's mother starts laughing. Loudly.

"Oh no Santana you didn't." She pushes out the words through gasping guffaws of laughter.

"Didn't what?"

"Not an Amore!" Maribel exclaims.

"Yeah, Amore. That's what Quinn said. I couldn't find anything on Wikipedia though."

"Well of course not." Maribel is still laughing to herself enough that tears are coming to her eyes.

"What is so goddamned funny?" Santana demands.

"Well they're hardly the most...glamorous of magical beings sweetie. And they're not exactly known for their fidelity. You know you could have gone for a nymph or something. Some nice forest girl with a little lineage at least."

Santana is shocked. "Wait are you being a _snob_ about this?" Santana chooses to point blank ignore the fidelity comment. "I tell you I'm in love with a girl._In love._ And you're trying to tell me what? She's not magic enough for you? It's not like we have horns and cloven feet, or cool powers or anything."

Maribel's chuckles finally start to slow and she swipes at the laugh tears that have escaped her eyes. "Okay, I'm sorry Santana. Please tell me more about this—" Another snicker escapes Maribel but she makes a concerted effort to straighten out her features. "Tell me about this Amore of yours."

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

She finally lets her hands drop from Quinn's face and steps away. There's a skip in Brittany's step—or in her dance at least—as she walks away from her slightly frazzled friend.

"Okay, so where do we hit next Quinn?" Brittany looks over her shoulder expecting to find Quinn right there but the space is empty.

Quinn is standing stock still, right were Brittany kissed her. Before the dancing crowd can get back between them Brittany moves to her side again.

"Quinn?" Brittany shifts to stand directly in her eye line. "Q are you okay?"

Brittany is pretty sure she broke Quinn. The other girl is just standing there with a vague expression, her hand half way to her mouth.

"Does it always feel like that?" Quinn finally asks.

"Does what feel like—"

"Kissing. Kissing someone. Is it always…nice?"

Brittany just gapes at her. "You mean you've never even. What about Rachel? I thought you've—"

"Brittany I've never even spoken to her."

Quinn pushes her hair back over her head, the flicky blonde locks falling back into their perfect place. Brittany thinks she finally understands something about Quinn. She's got a big bug up her butt cause she's never been in love. Or at least, never acted on that love.

"Oh. So you… I thought you loved that—"

"N-no. Britt we bring other people love. It's not ours to have."

"I thought you said the arrows were for lust not love."

"Huh?"

"You said—"

"Oh, right. Yeah but…" Quinn looks at Brittany, tears shining in the dim lights of the club. "I can't Brittany."

With that Quinn turns away and disappears from the club not leaving so much as a feather behind.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

_February 13th_

It might not be New Years but it's still Times Square and tourists are still Santana's favourite game. Right now the square is full of sweethearts, staking out their spot to have the big valentines smooch tomorrow. Santana thinks they're all suckers but then that might just be the bitterness talking since she's already assumed after a solid week of radio silence that Brittany won't be making an appearance.

Santana stalks through the crowd, looking for an easy target and spotting several candidates. The easiest is a woman with her husband taking photos of everything in sight. Her bag is not only open but Santana is pretty sure that she can actually _see_ the edge of her purse sticking out. It's almost too easy to bother with but she figures if she doesn't take it then someone else will.

Santana makes the pass, slipping the wallet smoothly into her own jacket. After another few paces she slips through another crowd of asian tourists, successfully missing the passports this time to grab two more wallets. She doesn't look behind her, she just keep walking like she has somewhere better to be.

On the other side of the square Santana leans against a bench to grab the cash and throw away the wallets. She unzips her jacket and reaches in for the woman's wallet. It's pretty bulky and Santana really hopes that it's cash and not just a bundle of those stupid loyalty cards.

Hold the phone.

Santana pats down her whole waist and checks through every pocket and slip of fabric that makes up her coat. The wallets—all of them—are missing.

A laugh sounds from behind her and makes Santana's heart skip a beat.

Brittany.

Santana is too nervous to turn around because what if this is another one of those times when she thinks she feels Brittany near her but it turns out that Brittany must just be thinking about her because—

"Aren't you going to turn around?"

Santana's smile can't get any wider as she spins around and runs into Brittany's arms. Brittany almost falls over backwards at the impact of Santana's body running into hers and somehow that little jolt of her heart has everything to do with Santana and _nothing_ to do with nearly falling on her ass.

"I can't believe you're here. Are you staying?" Santana says, face buried into Brittany's shoulder. Santana breaths in deeply. "You know you smell awesome?"

Brittany laughs again. "I can't say I'd put much thought into how I smell. And I've only got a bit over an hour."

Santana hums, trying not to think about the fact that they only have an hour. "Yup you smell awesome and feel awesome. And warm…" Santana takes a step back but doesn't relinquish her hold of Brittany's arms. She looks her up and down. "You even look warm. I didn't know you could do that."

Brittany just shrugs. The coat she's covered her usually bare shoulders with moves with her. It almost, sort of resembles the weight of her absent wings. Santana looks down the dark, skinny jeans to her black boots appreciatively. Brittany does't do the clothes thing very often but she figured this was a special occasion. She hasn't seen Santana in a while and she has something important to discuss.

Before she gets the chance to bring up anything Santana asks, "So you do have a home? Do you have a cupboard full of clothes and," she tugs at the flap on Brittany's hat. "Fuzzy bear hats?"

Brittany shakes her head. "Nope. Well, I have a home but I don't have a wardrobe or anything."

Santana looks like she wants to ask something more but Brittany interrupts before she can. "Do you want to do something tomorrow?" It all falls out in a rush.

Santana's hands still against Brittany's shoulders, though her thumbs keep stroking the soft fur of Brittany's hat. "Well, mostly I was going to buy a bottle of Jack and drown my sorrows."

Brittany's brow furrows in confusion. "Why, what's wrong San?"

Santana shrugs. "I figured you'd be kinda busy on valentine's day so I was just going to be home alone thinking about—"

Brittany doesn't let her get any further. She leans in and kisses Santana with everything she's got. It hurts her heart to think of Santana being so sad like that. She wonders for the first time if Santana has been feeling like this the whole time she's been away.

By the time Brittany pulls back, Santana's hands have crept up under Brittany's shirt and both of them are breathing hard.

Santana kisses Brittany again briefly. "Ill take that as a maybe?"

"That," Brittany says with another quick brush of their lips together. "Is a definitely. I am definitely not busy and I will definitely be spending tomorrow with you."

"But how does that work? Is the holiday like tacky so you all give it a miss or…?"

"Not really. Well… yes it is tacky but the cool thing is that the greeting card people do all the hard work for us. So I get the night off."

"Like a public holiday?"

Brittany shrugs. "I don't know what that is."

Santana just laughs and takes a small step back, knowing that she's wearing a likely goobery expression. "Wow, you really are like an alien sometimes."

"Oh," Brittany says looking a little crestfallen.

"Oh, oh no," Santana's heart plummets to her stomach at the hurt expression and she slips her hand into Brittany's. "No, Britt I mean that as a good thing."

Brittany looks like she doesn't quite believe her. "Really?"

Santana smiles as brightly as she can manage. "Yup. I love it."

Brittany's eyes light up on the word love. "Well I'll just keep being an alien then."

Santana bounces a little on her toes as she grins up at Brittany. "So does that mean you can go to dinner with me?"

Brittany doesn't look quite as excited. "Like, out?" she ska.

"Well Yeah."

"At a restaurant?"

"Well that's where valentines dates usually—"

"Where they put up all the chubby cherubs in diapers carrying my bow?"

"Oh." Santana's eye go wide in realisation as she immediately start internally kicking her own ass. "Oh, I'm sorry Britt, I should have—"

Brittany just laughs a little at Santana being so hard on her self. "You couldn't of known. How about we do something else?"

"Yeah," Santana feels immediately responsible. "Leave it with me. I—I'll think of something." She can't even begin to fight the wide grin from her face. Except. "Britt did you give those wallets back?"

Brittany just claps her hands once with her own grin then jumps forward to hug and then (most distractingly)kiss Santana breathless.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

_February 14th_

Santana is sure it's overkill. She looks around the apartment filled with little tea light candles in jars. She's working on a budget but she can still do atmosphere. Except it's overkill so Santana starts moving around candle by candle and blowing out the flames.

But then.

She's thought about it all day and come to the conclusion that Brittany deserves the epic romance. Brittany has never been in a relationship before. Before they met, Brittany was all new and fresh. Since Santana deflowered the girl this is the least she can do right? Or this is all overkill. She hesitates with the last candle poised in front of her. She looks around at the gloom that's been left without the candle's flickering glow.

It's not overkill. Brittany deserves the epic romance and Santana is going to give it to her. That's why she's wearing the figure hugging, little, black dress. That's why all the candles. She finds the matches and rattles the box. As she makes her way around the room relighting candles she quietly hopes that she won't run out of matches before she stops changing her mind.

Brittany watches from the window as Santana relights the candles for her. She can't think of a single person who has acted more adorably. She certainly can't think of _anyone_ who has acted like this for her. It fills her heart with an incredible feeling of warmth. It nestles up alongside the lovely flicker that persists with Santana's own loving thoughts.

She retracts her wings and concentrates on forming a flowy dress around her body. Santana startles and spins around when Brittany clears her throat. Brittany has to smother a laugh at Santana's startled expression. She's just holding a match somewhere near the wick of the candle but she looks like she's been caught doing something really naughty.

"Hey," Brittany says.

Just hey and Santana has already lost herself in love for this girl.

"Hi," she says back like her insides aren't evaporating.

Brittany glances at the candle in her hands. The match burns down to her fingertips at that second and she drops it with a yelp. Brittany is next to her in an instant.

"Ouch, are you okay?"

Santana just looks up at her. "It burned," she says like her vocabulary has evaporated along with her insides.

Brittany is fighting a smirk and Santana is grateful that she isn't outright laughing at her. For some reason this goddess has returned to Santana's apartment. For valentines day. And all Santana can do is stare and do damage to herself in stupid accidents.

Brittany holds the back of Santana's hand carefully. She curls Santana's fingers in toward her palm; all except the burned one. Santana lets Brittany guide her hand upwards. Somewhere along the way she must have passed out because suddenly Brittany is licking Santana's finger gently into her mouth then drawing back to blow over the wetness.

Holy sweet hell.

Then her phone beeps. It's only a message and Santana is more than content to ignore it. Then it buzzes again and Brittany looks at the device curiously.

"Do you need to feed your…bird?"

It's such a strange question regarding the chirping of her _phone_ that Santana can't help but laugh. Really laugh right from her belly because Brittany is perfect.

Brittany releases her hand—that suddenly feels much better—so Santana can read the text message. From her mother.

_I hope you're getting some of that Cupid Girl for valentines tonight Santana. You seemed stressed. Love, Mami._

Santana just groans because her mother is so embarrassing. The sign off at the bottom of the message is bad enough, let alone the content.

"You told your Mamá about me? About us?" Brittany has read the message over Santana's shoulder. Anyone else doing that risks death but of course Santana doesn't mind Brittany doing it. Especially when she winds her arms around Santana's waist from behind at the same time.

Santana nods as she turns in Brittany's arms. Brittany feels a rush at the heat of her body against her.

"When was this?" Brittany asks, coming to some interesting conclusions about their time apart.

"When I went home to Lima for a few days," Santana starts. "Must be, two weeks ago."

"I knew I felt something big," Brittany says, squeezing Santana closer to her. Excitement like a new discovery colours her voice. "What were you thinking about?"

Santana hesitates, feeling colour in her cheeks. "Okay," Santana can't believe she's about to admit to this. "So there may have been a small, vague, totally non binding… image of you and I… in wedding dresses. Getting married. To each other."

Brittany just blinks at her for a moment before a gorgeous smile lights up her whole expression. "Totally non-binding?" she asks with a light laugh. "But that makes sense. I totally felt it. I kissed Quinn and everything."

The rush of blood through Santana's ears suddenly becomes very loud. "What?" She pushes away Brittany's arms. Her mother's words coming back to her like she's in the room. 'Not known for their fidelity'.

Brittany looks a little hurt that Santana pushed her away but seems otherwise unconcerned as Santana's world falls down around her.

"I've never thought of Quinn like that," Brittany explains. "But you were just so all up in my heart I couldn't just not kiss someone you know?"

Santana shakes her head as she wraps her arms around herself defensively. "But you could just not kiss someone Britt! Seriously, you just pulled in the person closest to you?" Santana feels hurt and anger boiling up inside her.

"Yeah," Brittany shrugs like it's no big deal. "I don't understand what—"

Santana lets out a growl of frustration. She doesn't know how to do jealousy. All these feelings have just crept up on her. "You're—This whole thing is just so stupid I just don't even…and how can my mother be—"

Brittany doesn't hear any more than 'stupid'. Tears prick her eyes because now she knows for sure. Santana thinks like everyone else after all. Brittany's done the wrong thing and even though she doesn't really understand what that wrong thing is Santana is going to leave.

Well then.

Brittany doesn't need to wait around for that to happen. She lets her wings fill the space behind her and is at the window before Santana even has the chance to turn around. Brittany hesitates just long enough to see Santana's eyes one last time before she drops from the window and into a steep dive. Santana is at the window calling something to her. Brittany doesn't care to hear it.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

Santana tries to call Brittany. Over and agin but it's no use. She knows Brittany can feel her calling. Every time Brittany feels the call and thinks of her, Santana feels her own little pull.

Brittany is ignoring her. And it hurts. It literally hurts like someone is clamping down on her heart and lungs and twisting.

Santana paces across her living room, gnawing at her lip and trying to think of something she can do. Maybe her mother knows someone...no. Then she'd have to tell her mother that she made Brittany angry at her. The judgment and condescension alone would make Santana want to punch someone. Although. Talking of punching people. Quinn would have to know where Brittany is. Better than that, Quinn could probably take Santana to her right? With the right persuasion.

The tricky part is getting Quinn to come to her. How do you even call an Amore you aren't connected to? Brittany said she can feel Santana's longing and be drawn to it. But Santana doesn't long for Quinn. If anything the opposite is true. Santana flops down on the couch. She's not cut out for all this magic crap. She's not used to thinking about things like this.

She closes her eyes. Maybe if she just thinks about Quinn real hard? Okay. Hazel eyes, blonde hair, an unfortunate midget fetish apparently…

She peaks an eye open just in case Quinn has appeared at her window. Nothing. She tries again. Nothing. Maybe there really does need to be some kind of emotional attachment. Santana thinks of Brittany instead. She thinks about what she feels when she's with Brittany then she remembers what she feels when Brittany isn't there. It hurts. Especially when that pang of hurt reflects in Brittany(wherever she is) and is echoed back in her own chest.

"Dammit Britt." Santana sighs out in frustration. "Where are you?"

She tries to hold onto that feeling a little longer and then thinks of Quinn. She thinks of how she last saw the other Amore all the while holding onto that ache in her chest that feels like Brittany's touch.

"What the hell do you want Santana?" Quinn's voice appears out of nowhere. Actually her voice comes through the open window.

"Holy shit!" Santana scrambles to her feet as Quinn climbs in through the window.

It's actually quite fascinating to watch as Quinn flexes and twists her wings as well as her body to get through the very average sized window with her wings still unfurled. Her tiny shorts don't even ride up. Not that Santana was looking(okay, she was totally looking). But seriously Quinn just comes out the other side like there was never a chance to be ruffled.

"I can't believe you did that." Quinn is fuming. "Do you not know that I have to answer a call like that? And on my day off? Come on Santana."

"Do you really think I'd call you like that if I didn't have to?"

"Well I don't know do—wait." Her expression goes from mildly annoyed to seriously angry in a heartbeat. "What did you do to Brittany?"

Santana feels her heart plummet all over again. Because she really did hurt Brittany's feelings and that is _so_ not okay.

"Quinn, I don't have time to explain okay. I just said something really stup—I mean not nice and I didn't mean it and I really just want to find her to apologise but she's ignoring me." She approaches Quinn to implore more directly. "Please Quinn. I know you care about her but I—I love her and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I just. I need to find her."

Quinn still doesn't say yes but her posture loosens.

Santana tries a different tack. "What about that girl Brittany told me about. The siren you've been following around for months. If you could be with her what would you do?"

It's potentially a very low blow. Santana isn't sure though so she can only hope the gamble pays off.

Quinn sighs and glances out the window. Santana wonders if she's looking toward the girl she's been stalking, observing, whatever.

"Fine," Quinn says finally. "But I'm warning you Satyr if you so much as—"

Santana knocks the last words out of Quinn as she flings her arms around her neck. "Thank you Quinn. Thank you." Santana can feel Brittany's heart breaking alongside her own. "Can we hurry up already?" Quinn gives her a look. "Umm, please," Santana amends.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

Brittany shoots another arrow into the group of ducks to see them waddle apart in their funny little circles. The arrows don't affect them the same way they do humans but it ruffles their feathers a little and Brittany thinks she sees a few Lothario ducks in the mix. Okay, so maybe disturbing ducks isn't the most charitable thing she'll do all year but it makes her feel better. A little better.

Okay, not at all better. Every pang she feels in her chest just keeps reverberating around as it connects with Santana's worry and hurt. To make it worse of course, Santana keeps calling her name and thinking about her and loving her all at once. It's too much.

Brittany lets another arrow loose amongst the ducks. She misses and the arrow disappears into a small puff of pink in the frost burned grass. She never misses. But Santana is there; all in her head and heart and distracting her. If Brittany could just shut it off then… No she couldn't. She really couldn't even if she tried. The more she thinks about not seeing Santana the more she knows that she can't just walk away. Maybe if Santana apologises…

Brittany rolls her eyes at herself because… duh, she's the one that flew out of a window. What was she even thinking? It's like, she can't go back because that would set a bad precedent right? Just going back? But then how can Santana explain herself otherwise? It's not like Santana has any way of talking to her. Not in anything other than vague emotions.

}B{ — — {S} — — }B{

Santana blinks and she's in a park. Central Park. She looks at Quinn to ask what they're doing when suddenly her stomach churns and the world tilts and she's on her knees dry heaving into the frozen grass.

"Holy shit. What the fuck was that Blondie? You trying to kill me?" She wants to look up to glare at Quinn properly but then she's not entirely sure which way _is_ up.

"You're welcome," Quinn snarks.

"Really, what are we—" Santana finally figures out the gravity situation but looks up to find that Quinn is already gone.

Great. Now she's alone in central park with half frozen slush melting into her jeans AND she still doesn't know where Brittany is.

"Stupid ducks. What are you even doing here right now? Aren't you meant to be in Australia or something?" Brittany's frustrated grumblings are music to Santana's ears.

She struggles to her feet and then sways on the spot for a moment. Damn that trip was rough. She can't see much of anything except shrubbery but when she stands on tiptoes she thinks she can see the top of a blonde head. The sounds of pure frustration could only be coming from Brittany.

Brittany. Is right there. And upset.

Santana is not prepared for this. Any time her previous relationships had hit a snag she had been the first to bail. She doesn't know how to do this apology thing. If she's going to do this though, if she's going to be with Brittany for the long haul then she's going to have to learn to apologise. Cause let's be real here, this won't be the last time Santana needs to apologise for something.

Santana moves out into the open grass in time to see Brittany bring up her bow, and draw a fresh arrow out of the quiver on her back. She's back in her usual clothes, complete with impressive wingspan and enviable legs on display. Santana can't help but just stare at her for a second. Her head tilts to one side as her gaze settles on Brittany's ass. God, how she loves that ass.

Even shooting at ducks this girl is the hottest thing to—wait, ducks?

"Brittany, don't! I'm sorry don't—don't shoot anything—" her voice cuts off as Brittany spins around, startled.

Brittany looses hold of her arrow as she spins and before she knows what's happening the arrow is flying straight at Santana's chest. She can't stop it and it hits with an impressive burst of pink. She expects the cloud to dissipate but somehow it only keeps growing and growing until they are completely surrounded by pink smoke.

Santana's eyes are wide. "Brittany, what's happening?"

Brittany doesn't know. She's never seen this before. But then she's never fired her arrow into someone she loves before either. "I don't know. Are you okay?"

Santana takes a deep breath, assessing her body's responses. Nothing seems broken. She can't admit that her life flashed before her eyes because all she really saw was Brittany. Brittany and then pink.

She feels an hysterical giggle bubble up from her throat as Brittany reaches for her hand.

"Did I scramble your brain?" Brittany asks.

There's so much concern wrapped around those lovely, silly words that Santana just sighs through another laugh. "Marry me?"

The words slip out like they've just been sitting on the tip of her tongue. Brittany's eyes go incredibly wide and Santana's face must register the same shock.

"Wh—What?" Santana hears herself ask.

"You said marry me," Brittany answers, her voice more than a little awed. Or shocked. That could just be shock.

"Shit. I did didn't I?"

Brittany just nods. Then she frowns. "If this is your way of getting our of apologising Santana then—"

"No, it's not. I swear. I don't actually know where that…I mean I do because I thought about it but… I'm sorry." Santana trails off, reaching for Brittany's hand. She doesn't touch her yet though, waiting for Brittany to rejoin their hands.

Brittany sees Santana reaching out for her and she can't help but automatically take Santana's hand in her own. At their contact the pink mist changes again. Brittany sees a fresh stream wrap around their joined hands like she's seen happen thousands of times between thousands of couples that she'd brought together. Her palm tingles.

She looks up to those eyes that show all Santana's hesitance and worry.

"I am so sorry Brittany," she says again. "I shouldn't have reacted like that. I just. I was jealous and a bitch and I should have listened. Please forgive me?"

Brittany knows what she wants to say—what she needs to say. She just doesn't know if she's ready to face what it could mean.

"Please?" Santana asks again, her voice low and scared and so, so sweet. She looks up at Brittany with wide brown eyes, her forehead crinkled in worry and question.

Brittany reaches out with her free hand to smooth it out and push a stray lock of hair back behind Santana's ear. "Yes." One simple little word for so, so much.

Santana smiles hesitantly. "Yes, you forgive me?"

Brittany nods and Santana sighs in relief as she pulls Brittany into her arms. Brittany feels like she's come home.

Santana's grip gets tighter and Brittany can feel the smaller girl's breath hitch as she leans in to whisper in her ear. "Yes, I'll marry you."

* * *

AN: Happy Valentines Lovelies.

Next chapter: Morning sex and family time.


End file.
